


Sunset, Sunrise

by IreneADonovan



Series: Remixes 2020 [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Canon Disabled Character, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Genosha, M/M, Secrets, Smitten Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan
Summary: Charles Xavier comes to Genosha with a hidden agenda. Erik knows and falls in love with him anyway.Now includes art.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: Remixes 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839742
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79
Collections: X-Men Remix 2020





	Sunset, Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midrashic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midrashic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Sun and Other Celestial Bodies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567029) by [midrashic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midrashic/pseuds/midrashic). 



> This is for the lovely midrashic. I hope you enjoy.

"He's a spy."

Erik raised an eyebrow, waited for Emma to explain.

"He's a telepath, and his shields are damned good, but I can't say the same about the woman who brought him to our consulate in New York. She's CIA."

Erik's eyebrow quirked higher. "Why are you bringing this to me?"

Emma gave the faintest of eyerolls. "So you're actually in favor of letting him in?"

"He's a mutant, is he not?"

"Yes, but--"

"No but," Erik said. "Grant his visa. I'll show him around personally."

Emma's gaze was cool and penetrating as she handed him a flash drive. "Here's his file. Read it. And be careful. He's damned powerful."

Erik took the drive, and after Emma left, he sat at his desk and plugged it into his laptop.

Charles Francis Xavier. Omega-class telepath. PhD from Oxford in Genetics. Many, many papers on mutant biology. Even more essays expressing his assimilationist opinions. Not even being shot at a mutant rights rally a few years ago had dissuaded him from his wrongheaded views.

Erik actually knew of him, had followed his career, grudgingly respected him despite their philosophical differences. The attempted assassination at what had been a peaceful demonstration had been almost enough to make him dust off his helmet and return to the States to wreak vengeance. But he wasn't that man anymore.

But he'd never met Xavier, never expected to. Xavier wasn't likely to make his way to the mutant utopia he believed stood for everything he had always stood against. Except now he was coming, at the behest of the CIA.

Erik studied the photo of Xavier. He hadn't changed much in the half-dozen years since the shooting. His face was a little less boyish, a little more lined, his hair showing the first threads of silver, but his lips were still wide and lipstick-red, and his eyes remained a piercing sapphire. His broad shoulders, muscular chest, and long neck were scarcely obscured by the baby-blue button-down and grey tweed jacket, and the wheelchair necessitated by the assassination attempt was just visible in the frame.

The man was simply fucking gorgeous. He was also openly bisexual. It had been one thing to fantasize when Xavier had been in a country where Erik dared not step foot. It was quite another when he was soon to arrive in Erik's adopted homeland.

Getting involved with Xavier was a bad idea under the circumstances. But Erik had spent a lifetime living dangerously.

**~xXx~**

Xavier arrived just over three weeks later. He was even more gorgeous in person. And even more infuriating.

They clashed from the beginning, trading barbs throughout the "Welcome to Genosha" tour. It was thrilling -- Erik hadn't been challenged this thoroughly in a long time, if ever. And underlying their spirited debate was a simmering sexual tension that had kept Erik half-hard the whole time.

After the tour, he invited Xavier to his place for tea and further "discussion."

They actually did discuss a lot, over tea and dinner and whiskey and chess. Erik watched those jewel-toned eyes, saw when Charles truly understood that Genosha was more than the separatist colony he had presumed, that it was a refuge, a sanctuary, a second chance. He would stay, and not just because the CIA told him to.

And then Charles had appraised him with those sapphire eyes, licked his plush ruby lips. "So are we going to talk about the rest of this?"

"The rest?"

"You. Me. That you've been thinking about kissing me for more than an hour. I wouldn't mind, you know."

So Erik had risen, moved closer to Charles' chair, cradled his jaw in his hands, brought their lips together. He tasted of whiskey and of his own earthy sweetness, utterly intoxicating. The kiss remained gentle and exploratory for about three seconds, then Charles' hand buried itself in his hair and pulled him closer, his tongue demanding entrance.

They devoured each other for breathless minutes, separated only reluctantly. Erik straightened with a wince, his back reminding him he was a long way past his twenties. "Bedroom?" he suggested.

Charles nodded. "I'd best use your facilities first, though." The tips of his ears reddened slightly.

Erik had a moment of panic as he considered his tiny bathroom.

Charles chuckled. "Relax. As long as I can make it through the door and get close to the toilet, I can make it work."

He was able to do both, barely, so Erik went to the bedroom and turned down the bedcovers. He stripped off his clothes, tossed them in the laundry, took a seat on the bed.

Once Charles came into the room, his gaze raked over Erik appreciatively. "I feel quite overdressed," he quipped.

"So strip."

Charles approached the bed, locked his wheels, swung his body onto the mattress in a swift, fluid maneuver. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the tails from his trousers, then shrugged slowly, teasingly, out of the shirt. His arms and shoulders were all lean, taut muscle under ivory skin and tawny freckles, but Erik thought he could see where the paralysis began, below his shoulder blades, where the muscles became lax and a little atrophied.

Charles bent, removed his shoes and socks, then hooked an arm under his knees. He rolled backward onto the bed, using the momentum to pull his legs up. Erik saw more ivory skin and the defined muscles of his pecs, then took in the scars that slashed across the pale flesh. A neat surgical scar up the center of his chest. A smaller, twisted knot low on his ribcage.

Charles chuckled nervously. "I know they're not pretty."

Erik shook his head, laid a gentle hand on the center of Charles' chest. "You survived. That's all that matters."

Charles' smile was a little brittle. "I suppose this is where we have that awkward conversation about what works and what doesn't."

"Conversation, okay," Erik said, "but it doesn't have to be awkward." He slid his hand into Charles' silky curls and pulled him forward for another kiss, slow and deep.

Charles looked a little dazed once they parted. "Okay," he said, breathless, "just let me finish getting naked and I'll explain." He shifted back and forth, pushing his slacks down below his hips, then sat up to pull them the rest of the way off. He used a hand to position his legs, then he rolled back onto his side, facing Erik.

"Beautiful," Erik said.

Charles blushed. "Hardly."

"Beautiful," Erik repeated, then he kissed him again, set a hand on the satiny skin of Charles' hip.

Charles covered it with his own. "As you've probably figured, I can't feel that. But please don't let that stop you from touching me. I can see it, and I'll feel your reaction, and believe me, that's fucking hot."

He traced a line just under those sculpted pecs, and his voice grew fierce. "I can't feel anything past here, and yes, that includes my cock. I can get hard, you can even ride me, but I won't feel it, though I get a hell of an afterglow if I come." His voice grew even fiercer. "And don't you dare feel sorry for me or be afraid you'll hurt me. I'm paralyzed, not made of glass, and everything I _can_ feel has gotten a hell of a lot more sensitive. It'll be good for both of us."

"I never doubted that," Erik said and kissed Charles yet again. His fingers went to the back of Charles' neck, traced feather-light circles there.

Charles shivered. _More._ Even Charles' mental voice felt breathless.

Erik trailed kisses down one side of Charles' throat and down the other, even as his arm circled Charles' hips and pulled him close, grinding their cocks together, the friction making him bite back a groan. He sucked a mark into the soft skin below Charles' ear, nipped at the lobe, licked around the edge of the shell, as Charles keened softly and shuddered harder in his arms.

Then Charles took control, his hand threading into Erik's hair at the crown, pushing his head downward until his lips were on a level with Charles' nipples. _Here. Now._

Erik obliged, drawing one small nub into his mouth, sucking it to a tight peak while his fingers played with its twin. His cock nudged Charles' thigh, and his hips bucked forward, chasing the sweet friction of flesh on flesh.

Even as he was coming undone, head and shoulders thrown back, irises narrow circles of blue around widened pupils, Charles was aware of what Erik needed. One strong, sure hand slid between their bodies and took Erik in hand, stroking him with just the right amount of pressure, lightly-callused fingers giving an electric counterpoint.

Charles cried out, soft and sharp, then bit Erik's shoulder as he came, and the jolt of pain was enough to tip Erik over the edge, and he came fast and hard over Charles' hand.

He slumped back on the mattress, boneless, sated, content. "I'll get a washcloth in a minute," he mumbled. He wasn't going anywhere just yet.

Charles said nothing, just grinned goofily, his sapphire eyes alight.

**~xXx~**

The next few months were a delight. Charles settled into his new role as a science teacher, and Erik settled into Charles' life and his bed. He was a little bothered by Charles' still not telling him he'd been sent by the CIA, but he knew that Charles would bring it up eventually.

Though Erik didn't expect it to be after a particularly athletic session of lovemaking at his place. "I was sent here by the CIA. To find Magneto," Charles admitted as they snuggled in languid contentment.

"I know."

"You know? How? And why have you never said anything?"

"The woman who accompanied you to the consulate. Her telepathic shielding sucks. And I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."

"I never told them much. Only that Magneto doesn't seem to be here."

"He's not. Not really. Not anymore." Erik summoned a box from an upper shelf, opened it with a wave of his hand, displaying a distinctive metal helmet. "Genosha is a land of second chances, even for a former terrorist. I'm not the man I used to be."

"You're the man I love. That's all that matters."

"When are they coming?"

Charles sighed. "At dawn. I tried to tell them there was no point, but I think Moira thinks I drank the Kool-Aid." He smiled wryly. "Which I have."

"We'll be ready." Erik sat up. "I need to get people started on the preparations, though."

"Do you think I'll get a second chance, once it becomes known what I've done?" Charles looked truly worried.

Erik leaned over and kissed him, trying to cram every ounce of love he felt into the soft brush of lips. "Yes. Or Magneto will have to come out of retirement to say something about it."

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. This is a tough time for all of us, and a comment, no matter how rambling or how pithy, means more than you can imagine. Kudos are nice, but comments are gold. So please comment! (Even if it's just a 💜.)
> 
> Come join [our Discord](https://discord.gg/XS8V5a8), X-Men X-traordinaire.


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